The Night Swallow
by evenmoreso
Summary: A Rizzoli & Isles/Hunger Games AU where you can experience what it's like to live in the Capitol's hands from an escort's point of view. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The soft rays of the sun coming from the dusty old window force my eyes to open wide. I had another dream of fire, burning wood, smoke until all I could see was the light. It felt like a memory though. If great tragedy and danger had a smell, that would've been it. My consolation price for this morning is that I get to wake up and find my mother holding my hand against her chest, sleeping peacefully despite yesterday's hard work. She does this all the time. Her steady heartbeat usually lulls me back to sleep, but the daylight is stubborn so I slip away as gracefully as I can, leaving the bed warm, kissing mother on the cheek.

My sister, Kahlen, is already awake at this time. She starts her day in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from last night. She's a spitting image of me-except for her short dark brown hair, that is. Her eyes are blue and mine are different shades of hazel and green. She also doesn't have indendations on her cheeks. Nevertheless, I think she's beautiful.

Our black and brown-eyed puppy, Beef, sits impatiently beside her feet-wagging its tail annoyingly. He is little and adorable, but his breath smells like fish and unfortunately, he likes to lick my face. My sister named him that because she found him near the meat market and the only way to get him to come with her was to bribe him with meat, which my sister thought was a slice of beef. And so after 'chanting' beef a couple of times, he got accustomed to it, looking back at anyone who mentions the word beef. I think it's stupid and funny. My mother hates him, but kept him anyway. I guess she thought Beef was better than having us to go outside and wander around.

We live in a place called Graphene at District 13, where most men and women lived off of graphite mines and explosive weapons. The danger isn't new to us. People die every week for various reasons-poison, illness, hunger and the occasional fire caused by chemicals. Calloused hands, deafened ears and bloodshot eyes are normal here. The Capitol doesn't seem to provide enough protection though they crave for our products like savages.

Our house is placed on the eastern side of Graphene where the sun hits us badly. The summer heat burns us as early as nine o'clock in the morning and the humidity causes us to sweat beneath our thin and faded clothes. Good thing, there's a giant hole in our small backyard. Covered with a wooden door and a patch of dying grass, I go down under, leading me to the other side of the district.

I discovered the hole two years ago when I was starving, but couldn't go over the fence to find something to eat. I was planning on digging some roots in the backyard when my foot got stuck and I eventually fell down. I think the peacekeepers dropped a bomb here in the past.

I call it my secret garden. I can find everything I need from herbs to fruits. If you know how to pick the right ones, you'll do well. I rise up from the ground carefully, seeing to it that nobody is around. Dirt covers my dress and I hurry to shake it off of my body since I don't want mother to find out what I'm doing.

Mangoes. I could spend all day eating them. It's only eight and I'm parched but I wander further, staring at the trees, listening to the birds sing. It's peaceful out here and the breeze embraces my skin with its coolness. Underneath the shadows of green, I find something yellow, which is something I aim for so I rub my hands together and take a deep breath. I start climbing.

Nobody taught me how to climb. My instinct works, knowing if I should lift my left foot or my right, which branch to hold on to. When hunger strikes you, anything is an option. My first week wasn't gracious too. I came home with several ant bites, bleeding fingers and a scraped knee. Hunger is hunger. You'd have to put up with it.

Two hours passed and I have six mangoes in my hands. The seventh is already in my stomach. I can get in trouble for this, go to jail, be punished. But I seem to care less. My mother is the finest healer in the district. She earned a lot of respect from the people. Besides, if I don't go out, who would pick out those herbs she needs for her patients? Maybe I'm so calm about violating the rules.

Climbing down is harder for me since I have a load to carry. There are times where I slip, but not today. And just as I hit the ground, the smell of oregano fills in my nose and I remember the rest of the things I need to get.

Panem is something that I can never understand. And the Capitol. Though I haven't seen the city itself, I feel as though all of the thirteen districts are slaves, forced to work to satisfy them. I don't ask for much in this life, but I think it's a little depressing to see houses made of thin ply wood, rusty roofs and other metal scraps. Not to mention the scarcity of food and healthcare. We are poor and I don't know why. Panem survived, so why does it seem that we're still struggling?

I come home quickly, heading straight to the bathroom. My mother taught me not to be grimy in front of the table. She is obsessed with cleanliness, Kahlen isn't. I'm always in the middle of things.

My sister catches me brushing my damp hair in front of the broken mirror.

"Hey, Maur," She calls out, scratching her head. My name is Maura, but when Kahlen started to talk, she could barely pronounce it until 'Maur' ended up being my nickname, which is no different from Maura if you say it faster. She made me try saying it ten times and and it's true.

"Hey yourself." I smile. Kahlen walks around me and Beef follows her and starts licking my feet. I pick him up, shaking him slightly. "Not today big boy, I already bathed. Kahlen on the other hand, needs to." Being my sister, of course she has to pinch my arm. I pretend to wince in pain and she just laughs.

"So listen," says Kay. "Do you mind covering up for me later? I just talked to Korsak, he's going to teach me how to kick some a-" My mom walks in before she could finish her sentence. "Do you want to do the dishes? Again?" She says, but her face is not a serious as her words.

Sometimes, I just want to stare at mother and count the lines on her face. I love her very much. I look up to her. She's raising us all by herself and I'm trying not to be a burden. Our family doesn't like to talk about things from the past. And when I say past, I mean, my father. I remember pestering her about it when I was five. She didn't say much, but her face turned sour like it was the vilest thing I ever said. Since then, I learned not to ask about him, but I still often wonder why. Sometimes, I would write letters to my father, in my head of course, saying things like, "Father, why did you leave her? How could you?"

I can go on, but the pain remains the same. It hurts me to see how wonderful my mother is and yet that man chose to disappear. I know he's not dead, I know deep in my heart, he is not. Otherwise, my mother would've told me.

Kahlen interrupts my thoughts with her reasoning. She says she needs to learn self-defense to protect herself and this family. She's the 'man of the house' after all. I admire her bravery and perseverance, but as her sister, I don't think I will approve of her being on the other side of Graphene all day, learning about violence. I can't stand it. I can't stand her getting hurt-which is why I talked to Korsak yesterday and told him to stay away from my sister. I still think he's a good man. He's just rarely sober and the people take him for a fool because of it.

There are a lot of good men in Graphene. It's just the unfortunate events that led them to be what they are now-such sad and hopeless creatures. There's Barry, whose skin is dark and handsome. We go to school together and we're friends because our mothers are. He has such beautiful hazel eyes. Too bad, he can't use them to see. And the funny thing about him is that, he doesn't know what I look like and yet he still calls me pretty. He is very kindly. I wouldn't tell this to anyone, but if I could, I would like to kiss him someday.

Mayor Cavanaugh is next in line. He is a lonely man, living with five kittens. You don't see him loitering around, but when you do, he'd be talking to Barry's father. I heard, they used to be soldiers, which makes sense because they have all the knowledge about what makes this district float. He is a nice man. He rarely smiles, but he seems sincere. Sometimes, he would give my mother a sack of flour or anything that he could offer. He calls her Hope and She calls him Sean. It sounds so strange to me.

The last would be President Doyle. He's not exactly from District 13 but it feels as though he is because he's always here. That's why I know the Capitol is different from here because he dresses differently and his peacekeepers look more dangerous and unfriendly. I know he's good because I overheard him talking to my mother once. He told her that he would like to help us. Clearly he was reaching out. I don't know what happened to that help though. My family is still starving and my sister still has to wear my old clothes. Did he mean it or was it something political?

There are more people whose names I don't quite know, but I do recognize their faces and I know the things that they do. It's just that, right now, my main concern is to stop Kahlen from crying and to help mother cook something edible. She may be a great healer, but she doesn't belong in the kitchen. I think I do.


	2. Chapter 2

The kitchen is one of the few places that gives me comfort. It's not close to glamorous. In fact, it saddens me whenever I can't find something to cook, which is often, but I think it's because of our small kitchen table. It's where we always eat, where the three of us spend time together. It makes me feel normal and content. I have become fond of cooking because of the smell. I like the smell of food, the smell of freshly baked bread, warm milk. I can go on and on about it. Nobody taught me how to cook either. Sometimes, I think I just like to set things on fire until they become something edible.

At twelve o'clock, Beef makes the same noise as always. He always does this whenever he hears spoons and plates colliding. We have wild turkey and potatoes, steamed in lemon grass. I know it sounds fancy, but only because of the donations. We don't usually eat like this. In fact, we don't usually eat at all.

I'm still surprised after finding raw turkey in the sink. Surprised, but thankful. Often times, we feed on roots, wild onions and peas. If I'm lucky, I get to take home two or three pieces of small fish from the lake. One of the few rules in the house is to cook whatever I can in the kitchen and if there's nothing in the kitchen, I have to look elsewhere. I can't complain, not when I have two people counting on me.

Kahlen sneaks in and dips her fingers into the plate of food. "Wow, what's the occasion?" She asks. I put the plate away and make her sit properly. We may be starving, but we always eat together. Always. "It's just our lucky day." I answer. "Can you please get Mom?"

"Why me?" Kahlen groans. She doesn't get along with our mother that much so she tries to avoid her.

"Because. And don't forget to wash your hands!" I say. I know that she loves her though. Kahlen is just more free-spirited and my mother is strict. I don't have that privilege because I'm the first born. If I ignore responsibilities and do what I want, where would we be? I don't even try to think about it. Life is already hard for the three of us and I'm not going to make it harder—not that my little sister is doing such a thing. I just assumed responsibility because of my father's absence and when it gets tough, I do blame him. It's no use but it makes me feel better.

Mother sits down on the table, sighing. A few strands of ginger hair escape her graceful bun and it makes me smile. She looks at me, all wide-eyed and wondering. "What?"

"Nothing, you just look beautiful today." I say with an even wider smile. Kahlen makes a face and envelopes Mom in her arms. She takes a seat, moments after. "Where's Beef?" She asks.

"He's eating outside. I don't want him barking when we are." I answer, putting two more plates on the table.

The next few minutes is filled with silence for two reasons: we are very hungry and the food is really good. I'm halfway in finishing my turkey leg when my Mom starts speaking. "Maura, I'm surprised that you can hunt. However did you manage to bring home turkey all by yourself?"

She looks delighted and impressed but I'm confused—so confused that I'm taking even when my mouth is full. "Mom, I can't hunt. I thought it was donated by one of your patients, I just found it in the sink." Kahlen doesn't really care where the food is coming from, so long as she gets to eat.

"I... I think I'm done here," says Mom. She stops eating as soon as she hears the first three words. It's like she swallowed poison. "Mom," I'm worried. "Did I do something wrong?" I rarely see her like this and when I do, it's like she's a complete stranger.

She stands up and leaves the rest of her food untouched. "Darling, you did great. I'm just full. I need to go back to work, they need me." She pinches my cheek and smiles a little. Clearly, she's bothered by something but she chose to hide it—only she can't hide things pretty well from me. I'm her daughter.

"Mom, can I have it?" Kahlen stares at the half-eaten turkey breast. Mother gives her a quick nod and leaves as soon as she finishes drinking her cup of water. I can't let it bother me that much. Maybe she just remembered something. I finish my plate within seven minutes. In ten months, this is the first time that I feel full. I don't mind the temporary bulge in my stomach, it makes me happy.

The turkey is so big that I can still save some for dinner and for a few people, less fortunate than I. "Kay, I'm gonna go out for a few minutes. Do you think you'll be okay here?" I start wrapping a few chunks of turkey and potatoes in two separate banana leaves after putting my plate in the sink. "Hey, it's your turn to do the dishes!" Kahlen whines, pointing at me. "I know silly bear," I laugh, messing with her hair. "Just leave them in the sink. I'll do them later. Take a bath, you stink!" I say as I grabbed a basket nearby, putting the food inside it.

* * *

I make my way into the outskirts of town. It's a long walk but I don't really mind. Although, my slippers are the only thing in between the scorching heat of the ground and the soles of my feet. I can't imagine how a person can stay outside and endure this weather. Though I know someone who does—Angel. She's a middle-aged woman who has the same dark golden locks I'm wearing over my shoulders. My mother is slim but Angel is gorgeous, nurturing and weary. The lines on her face show all of her hard work in Graphene. She used to cook for the miners on this side of town, but I think something happened with her husband, something I'm not quite sure about so now she lives an outcast—barely homeless and completely lonely. Rumor is, she even had a daughter that died at birth. She's been miserable ever since.

Her house is just a small rotten hut with a three goats loitering outside. I call them Salt, Pepper and Sugar because everything about food delights Angel. She sees me over her window before I can knock.

"Maura, what on earth are you doing here?" says Angel. She hurries to let me in. She doesn't have much. All I see is a small table, a sink and a really old bed. This breaks my heart a little. "I brought you something special," I smile, eager to take out the food from the basket. I hand it over to her immediately, as if it were a precious gift. She takes it wholeheartedly, sniffing and guessing what it is until her senses can't take it anymore. I watch her face change from being tired to being in complete bliss. I live for this moment, to bring happiness to someone with the smallest things. She doesn't even bother to use a plate, she just eats it with her bare hand. "Oh my, I can't remember the last time I had wild turkey. This is so delicious. Did you cook it all by yourself?" Angel almost moans, bite after bite. I try not to stare at her too much. I don't want her to think that I'm looking at her as if she were a strange animal. She's just dear to me. She smiles and greets me all the time. She tells me stories, sings me lullabies. I am the daughter she never had.

"Yes. I'm so glad you liked it! I haven't had turkey in a while too. I just had to bring you some!" I chuckle slightly as I take a seat next to her. "Dear child, you didn't have to. Look at you, you're probably exhausted and irritated after walking under that heat." She pats me on the knee with her free hand, giving it a light squeeze out of affection. "It's no problem, really. I love seeing you when I can. You're my friend." I say, putting my hand above hers for a moment. I look at her and wish all the bad things didn't happen to her. I want her to be okay, to keep fighting, to at least, have something to live for. And that's when I notice the awful bruise on her arm. There's no need to ask who did it. "Angel, when did this happen?" I ask, grabbing her arm with an obvious worried expression on my face. "It doesn't hurt much." She flinches, slightly embarrassed at the fact that a child is asking her a serious question. "You can't let Frank hurt you. You don't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you." My seriousness terrifies her that she feels guilty about it. I only hope that she knows that she doesn't disappoint me. I just care about her well being. I would never let anyone hurt my mom and little sister. "This is the last time, I promise." Angel says, looking down—slightly ashamed of the situation. She meets my gaze though, after composing herself. She's a strong woman, I know she is. "He's with another woman and he moved out." Tears threaten to fall down her eyes but she holds them back. "I deserve better, I know that. It's just... the kids. He took the kids—Tommy and Frankie. I tried to take them back but—oh, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I'm a grown woman for petesake!" She waves her hands with every word she said. I'm guessing it's out of habit. I know she thinks I'm naive, but I think I understand her more than I should. "It's okay, I'm your friend. I'm young but I can listen. I'm here to help. When you can't take care of yourself, I will." I figure, she needs comfort but I don't know how to give her that so I made a promise to myself instead. I would never let anything happen to Angel again. I can talk to Barry's father. Maybe he'll keep an eye on her. Maybe he'll even help her get her kids back. "I have to go now. My mom is probably looking for me. I'll see you next Thursday." I leave her with a warm embrace. I'm not really going home, at least, not yet. And I'm not telling her that I'm going to talk to Barry about my plan. He's another good friend of mine.


End file.
